Game of Thrones: The Legend of Jon Arctic - Chapter 189 - Yin 01.

[Chapter Size: 2900 Words.]

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Thrid Person POV

Yi-Ti, 296 AC.

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The Artican ships quickly began unloading the fruits at the port the next day while Lord Kin'emon's men came to collect the goods to show them to the city.

People watched the large amount of food being carried, focusing especially on the giants, who were the ones lifting the heaviest loads and placing them on carts. Meanwhile, the Articans observed the situation from the decks of their ships, their curiosity piqued by this foreign city.

“Captain, tell all the men they’re free to explore the city while we’re here,” Jon said, and the man nodded.

“It will be done, my king,” he replied before heading to the deck. Arya and Wind stood by the ship’s edge along with a few dwarves, watching the activity at the port. Jon, however, ignored them and entered the ship, heading to his quarters, where he found his wives and aunt gathered around the dragons, talking amongst themselves.

“Jon...” murmured Rhaenys, looking at him as he entered the room and went to his wardrobe to grab some clothes to wear in the city.

He had spent the entire day organizing his ships to begin delivering food to the people, and now, at Lord Kin'emon’s invitation, he was preparing to visit the mansion to meet Kin'emon’s family with his own.

After choosing an outfit, Jon changed the upper part of his attire in front of the women in the room. His gaze fell on the dragons; there was a problem. No Targaryen could leave them alone—they would surely try to follow and burn down any door that stood in their way.

“Jon... I think I’ll stay with Jahaerys. The young dragons don’t obey either me or Daenerys, but they stay calm if you or our son are around... so it’s better if I stay to take care of them,” Rhaenys suggested, and Jon had to agree with her reasoning. Even using his Warg powers, controlling more than thirteen young dragons was still very challenging.

“All right... I’ll visit the city with you next time,” Jon promised, and Rhaenys understood his decision.

“I’ll stay with her, Jon,” Daenaerys offered, and Jon nodded at that. Ygritte was already ready, wearing a red dress that matched her hair.

“Don’t look at me like that, my husband,” she teased, and Jon gave her a closed-lip smile before stepping off the ship with her.

In the end, Jon, Ygritte, and Arya, along with ministers and their men, headed for the castle once again, escorted by giants as they passed through the city.

Kin'emon was waiting with his family as the gates opened. Jon approached to greet him.

“Welcome, King of Artica,” Kin'emon said warmly.

“Hello again, Lord Kin'emon. This is my wife, Ygritte, Queen of Artica by my side,” Jon introduced, and the families exchanged greetings. Jon explained that his other wife had stayed on the ship to care for their newborn son, only two moons old.

“It’s good to see you here. Your food is already being distributed, and the people in the city are quite surprised by the variety and abundance—they’ve never seen anything like it before. Some are already experimenting and trying to create recipes,” Kin'emon commented.

“You can speak to my men. Some of them speak Valyrian. If you have anyone who knows even the bastard tongue, they can consult them,” Jon offered, and Kin'emon nodded.

“That’s excellent. I’ll do exactly that,” he replied.

They then proceeded to the castle, with Jon trying to adapt to the rules and customs of Yi-Ti. He and his large group tried to behave according to local norms, which proved challenging in such a foreign land with a people he had never encountered before, apart from visions in the green dreams. Jon, Arya, and Ygritte attempted to mimic Kin'emon’s family, sitting directly on the floor and drinking tea and sake.

“Do you get seasick on your travels?” Kin'emon’s wife asked Ygritte during their conversation. She was a slightly older woman, in her mid-thirties, and the mother of six children ranging from two to eleven years old.

“Yes, I have that issue. Not during the travels themselves, but I’m worried about our return to Artica. We’ll spend several moons at sea again, even though we’ll take a faster route for the fleet,” Ygritte admitted, and the woman nodded in understanding.

"Don’t worry about that, dear. I know a healer in the city who helps women traveling with their husbands for trade. I’m sure she can help you—after all, they always return pregnant and very well..." the woman said at last.

"That would be great. If it works, you’ll save my life," Ygritte murmured, not wanting to deal with the nausea she had already started feeling even before reaching these lands.

Meanwhile, Jon was speaking with Kin'emon in another corner, drinking and discussing the structure of Yi-Ti. He noticed that the kingdom was the size of Westeros but divided into provinces instead of regions. However, like Westeros, each province had a lord, though here the position was not inherited. Unlike the North, with lands like those of the Boltons, Glovers, Umbers, and Karstarks, every noble here had to be a high-ranking samurai, going through years of trials before assuming their role.

"Moreover, this is an empire. The Emperor—or rather, the Shogun—is the warlord who commands all the provinces, and his decisions are final," Kin'emon explained. However, at the moment, the Shogun was dealing with a major threat: the Mongols were coming from the east, destroying provinces on that side and causing trouble across the empire. He was in the capital, trying to organize a resistance to stop them.

There were more details, but Kin'emon chose not to elaborate, and Jon didn’t press him—it wasn’t a problem he needed to solve, after all.

"Well, I think now would be a good time for you to accompany me to the courtyard so we can see what kind of warrior you are, King of Artica," Kin'emon said, changing the subject with a challenging smile.

"Why not? Let’s go," Jon replied, rising from the floor where they had been kneeling, drinking sake.

"I’ll be heading outside for some sparring. Would you like to join me, Arya?" Jon passed by the women, and Arya quickly nodded, standing up.

"My sister is a warrior as well, so she’s enthusiastic about fights," Jon explained, clarifying her presence.

"It’s unusual to see a woman wielding a sword, but not unheard of. Let’s see if her style is better than ours," Kin'emon replied.

They headed to the courtyard, where some men were training with swords and bamboo replicas. Some practiced synchronized movements, while others struck bamboo stakes or sparred with one another.

Everyone noticed Kin'emon’s arrival and quickly bowed their heads in respect. As they passed by, Kin'emon exchanged a few words with the men until they reached an open space suitable for training. Other samurai in the area approached, drawn by the sight of Jon with the lord of the city.

Jon saw Ygritte and Kin'emon’s wife with some of her young children watching from one of the castle balconies, their expressions curious about what was happening.

"Well, I’d like to fight against you, King of Artica. Is that all right?" Kin'emon asked with respect.

"That’s what I’d like as well. So, let’s do it," Jon replied openly, smiling.

"Great. Let’s begin, then," Kin'emon said, leading the Artican king to the open field. Everyone present stopped to watch, even those who had been training. The royal guards of Artica moved closer to where their king was. For the people here, it was rare to see Kin'emon, the greatest swordsman in Yin, fight, and it was intriguing to see him face off against a foreigner.

"Are you sure you want to do this with real swords, King of Artica?" Kin'emon asked.

"Let’s. I want to see your style with something real," Jon replied.

Kin'emon nodded and took his katana, which was handed to him by a servant in a decorated box. He removed the scabbard, and the blade gleamed under the daylight.

"That’s a beautiful blade," Jon commented, admiring it before reaching to his waist and drawing his two katanas. Both gleamed even brighter, leaving Kin'emon surprised.

"What is this?" Kin'emon murmured, astonished by the glow of the metal.

"Valyrian steel. I’m sure that’s not unknown to you," Jon said with a grin.

"These are magnificent swords you have there, King of Artica. This metal is so valuable that only thirteen such swords exist in our entire kingdom. To think I would see two in the hands of a foreigner..." Kin'emon remarked.

"I have one too!" Arya murmured beside him, drawing her sword and showing it off. This left those around them even more surprised, while Kin'emon scratched his head.

"Well, anyway, let’s set the words aside and begin," Jon said.

Kin'emon nodded, lifting his blade with both hands and turning his body to adjust his posture. He looked at Jon seriously. Meanwhile, Jon spun his swords, warming up his arms and getting used to their weight before settling into position.

They stared at each other for a moment, while everyone around remained silent, listening even to their breathing. Without warning, both moved simultaneously. The blades clashed with a metallic sound that echoed across the courtyard.

Kin'emon felt the pressure of Jon’s strike and took a step back as their blades exchanged quick and precise blows. He tried to defend himself, shocked by Jon’s strength and speed, which marked him as an exceptional opponent.

Jon didn’t hold back—he wanted to test how a samurai would act with nearly full skill on display. He pressured his opponent, forcing him to retreat, though Kin'emon stubbornly stayed in the fight. Jon had to admit the man held his ground, until he managed to deflect Kin'emon’s blade, creating a fatal opening. Without hesitation, Jon placed one of his blades at Kin'emon’s neck while holding his other sword at his side.

The courtyard fell silent after the feat, with everyone watching their lord standing still, stunned by the magical metal pressed to his neck, signaling that he had lost—and quickly.

"That was certainly incredible," Kin'emon said as Jon withdrew his sword.

"You think so?" Jon smiled, stepping back.

"I’ve never seen that style before. Is that how you fight in the West?" Kin'emon asked, curious, while carefully holding his blade.

"More or less. However, I’m faster and stronger than any warrior from the continent I came from. I’ve already defeated all the greatest warriors of the West. You could say I’m the greatest warrior the lands of the setting sun have to offer," Jon replied. He tried not to sound arrogant, but he knew it was true. After all, who could rival him after Oberyn Martell, Jaime Lannister, Barristan Selmy, and the Mountain? All had fallen before him.

"Is that true?" Kin'emon murmured, surprised by the claim.

"Yes, it’s true. Jon has never lost a battle. He’s not just the strongest in the West—he’s the greatest warrior in the world!" Arya shouted in the local language from the corner, proudly boasting about Jon.

"You exaggerate, Arya. I haven’t fought all the strongest warriors in the world to know that," Jon said calmly, trying to appear humble.

Kin'emon began to laugh, finding it amusing. He then looked back at Jon with a smile. "This is really interesting, King of Artica. Well, let’s practice more. After all, it’s not every day I face the man said to be the strongest in the world," Kin'emon said cheerfully.

Jon nodded but this time sheathed one of his swords, lifting the other katana with both hands. He assumed a stance that shocked Kin'emon, while everyone around watched with curiosity.

"What style is this?" Kin'emon asked.

"White Dragon Style of the Snowy Mountain," Jon replied.

Kin'emon narrowed his eyes. "I’ve never heard of it. Where does it come from?" He recognized the stance as one from Yi-Ti but didn’t understand how a foreigner could know it.

"This style was lost over 2,000 years ago..." Jon replied. "I mastered it over the past few years," he stated with a smile.

Even though Kin'emon didn’t recognize the style, he could tell Jon’s posture was clearly practiced and refined. "How did you learn this?" Kin'emon asked, visibly intrigued.

"I have my methods. If you don’t know this style, I believe you’ve heard of Xiao Ryuu, the White Dragon. I believe he’s a legend here in Yi-Ti from long ago, but he existed," Jon said.

"Xiao Ryuu, the White Dragon! His style?!" some of the men around murmured, surprised. They didn’t know the style but certainly recognized the name, as it was a story in Yi-Ti folklore.

Xiao Ryuu, the White Dragon, was a samurai who fought to protect a village when all the other samurai fled, bringing shame to their names. He stayed behind to defend everyone and uphold his honor. Alone, he faced the bandits who were set to pillage—a thousand of them. Xiao Ryuu stood there, raising his sword before the fight began. A brutal battle of four hours ensued as everyone watched him fight alone against a thousand men. He emerged victorious but gravely wounded, succumbing to his injuries. As the last master of the style, no one had ever learned it from him, and no one had imagined that such a style could be revived.

"That’s impossible! He’s not lying, is he?" some samurai murmured among themselves, incredulous at what they had just heard.

"Well, that’s what I’m going to find out now," Kin'emon murmured, settling into his fighting stance. His face was firm as he prepared to face Jon, but suddenly, it changed to a look of shock as he fell to the ground the next moment. The entire courtyard went silent once more, with the Artican guards smiling broadly.

After only ten seconds of combat, Jon had defeated Kin'emon using the legendary Yi-Ti style. It was something none of those present had ever witnessed before.

"How... how do you know this style? I’ve never seen anything like it! It surpasses even the styles of the lords and the Shogun himself!" Kin'emon murmured, looking at Jon with a mixture of admiration, fear, and respect.

"As I said, Lord Kin'emon, I have my own methods to replicate this style," Jon replied with a smile.

"Incredible! May I fight you, please?" a samurai asked, eager to face him. Kin'emon granted permission, and Jon did not decline.

The man quickly prepared himself, and Jon used the same White Dragon of the Snowy Mountain sword style. The fight began, with the clash of swords echoing through the courtyard. Jon’s blade moved fluidly and unpredictably, as he wielded only one katana, having already sheathed the other. He defeated the first samurai with ease, leaving him stunned and awed, who then humbly accepted his defeat and even received a few tips from Jon.

This continued for some time. More and more people gathered to watch the fights, shocked to see the foreigner displaying a lost samurai style. Not only did he demonstrate skill, but he did so with perfection, defeating every samurai who challenged him. To the spectators, it looked more like an art form than mere combat.

"I believe that’s enough," Jon said at last, sheathing his sword.

Kin'emon nodded. "That’s fine, King of Artica. I’d love to talk more about this style with you."

"I want you to teach me as well, Jon!" Arya approached, looking at him with admiration. She had never learned a style as refined as this one, and after seeing Jon defeat every samurai, her excitement was evident.

"Of course, Arya. I’ll train you on the way back," Jon replied, not denying her request.

"And about our conversation... can we postpone it until tomorrow? I’m sure you’ll stay a few more days, won’t you?" Jon turned back to Kin'emon, who nodded.

At that moment, a samurai approached with another man by his side. "King of Artica! I’ve brought the guide," the samurai announced, presenting the man.

The man had blonde hair and green eyes, clearly a Lannister, as he bore a striking resemblance to Tywin and Kevan.

"King of Artica, this is the guide I mentioned," the samurai said, introducing the man.

Jon looked at the man with interest, observing him directly rather than through the eyes of animals he often warged into. He had known of the man’s arrival even before this encounter, which was why he had cut short his conversation with Kin'emon.

"You’re a Lannister, aren’t you?" Jon asked, while Arya also looked at the man in surprise.

The man, though slightly startled, broke into a broad, cheerful smile.

"Yes, I am. Gerion Lannister, also known as the Laughing Lion," he replied, his grin full of hope as he looked at Jon. He had been eager to meet Jon ever since hearing about ships from Westeros in the port, believing they could finally be his way back home.